It's All In The Balance . . .
by Blitz
Summary: Bobby is diagnosed with a new disorder - recently discovered in him. As he is put on medication, madness ensues in the X-Mansion.
1. Bobby's Diagnosis

Chapter1.html Summary: Bobby is diagnosed with a new disorder and madness ensues in the X-Mansion for some reason. Now they must discover what it is before it's too late!   
Disclaimer: People in waiting room are mine, everyone else - no. 

IT'S ALL IN THE BALANCE 

DAY 1:

Throughout the mansion, various voices were all calling out in unison one word: 

"BOBBY!!!!" 

"Heh heh heh," Bobby "The Iceman" Drake snickered in his room, wondering what each of them had found. Was it the glue in Rogue's shoes? The handy-dandy bottle of Rogaine on the Professor's desk (artfully tied with a big red bow and a lovely love letter from "Jean")? Or had it been . . . 

Beast stormed in the Iceman's room. "Honestly, Bobby, sometimes you just go _too_ far!" 

Yes, yes it had been the phosphoric acid replaced with Snapple. Bobby tried to hide a grin. 

Jubilee, upon hearing Beast's not-so-quiet entrance into Bobby's room, ran to the door. "What is going _on_ in here?!" 

"Our precious _Bobby_ has _hidden_ my phosphoric acid and replaced it with some sort of vile, unnatural . . . " 

"Snapple," Bobby smiled. 

"I rest my case." 

"Wait . . . if the Snapple was the phosphoric acid, then the actual Snapple container has . . . Gotta go!" Bobby leapt off the bed and skidded down the hall. "Storm! Wait!" He created an ice slide and slid through the mansion in hot persuit of the Weather Witch. 

*** 

DAY 2:

Meeting in my office. Immediately!>> Professor Xavier's telepathic voice came booming into the X-Men's minds. 

"Quick, team! Suit up! The Professor needs us!" Scott Summers called to the X-Men. 

They all responded, running to their suits. Bobby iced up quickly and ran to the office, but not before icing the doorknob for a cold little treat for Scott who would surely come next. As Iceman sat down, he heard a cry of surprise from Scott. 

Scott, after ripping his hand away from the knob, let an optic blast shoot from his visor to break the ice away. The Professor glared at Bobby. 

"Cyclops? Jean?" the Professor asked, staring at the X-Men. "_Why_ are you in uniform?" 

Scott shrugged. "Force of habit. Plus, in my opinion, I look good in spandex." 

The X-Men, who had all shown up by this time, cringed and made a face. Jean put her hand on Scott's arm and shook her head. Scott looked at Jean and then at the Professor, confused and upset. He lowered his head, ashamed. 

"By the way, Chuck," Wolverine asked, "why _do_ you dress us up in spandex?" 

The Professor smiled and said casually, "I have my reasons." 

Jean telekinetically restrained Logan from going on a berserker rage on the Professor, who continued, leaning back and crossing his arms. "This is about Bobby." He turned to Bobby, who was busy freezing one of the Professor's pencils. Professor Xavier snatched it away and Bobby looked up at him with wide eyes. "Bobby, you need to see a doctor." 

Hank raised his eybrows in protest. "But - " 

"Who's not Hank. This requires outside assistance. Bobby," Xavier said, turning to Bobby and leaning forward, "we believe you have A.D.D." 

"What!? That's _crazy_! I don't have A.D. what's-it!" 

"A.D.D." 

"What? Yeah, whatever." 

"I see what you mean," Jubilee said. 

"Jubilee, don't get me _started_ on you!" 

Jubilee did "shifty-eyes". 

Meanwhile, Bobby Drake had gotten up and was leaving the room. 

"Bobby! Where are you _going_?!" 

Iceman shrugged. "I got bored." He looked around at everyone staring at him. "Alright, alright, I'll go," he relented. 

DAY 3:

The next afternoon, the X-Men assembled in the waiting room of a local doctor's office. A five-year-old stood in front of Wolverine, smiling. Wolverine was picking his teeth wih an adamantium claw. He looked down at the little boy. "What're you lookin' at, kid?" he said gruffly. 

The little boy pointed to Wolverine's hair and claw. "You're pointy." 

"'Ro, you wanna change seats?" 

"No. I'm alright." 

The five-year-old had proceeded to climb up onto the chair next to Wolverine and was reaching for the two points. Logan picked up the boy and held him at arm's length. "Ro, _please_." 

"I'm quite fine _here_, Logan," she said, flipping a page in her magazine and looking over at Logan wickedly. 

"Ro, I'm serious. I'm _this_ close to chuckin' this kid at the cajun!" 

"Leave Gambit outta dis!" 

"Drake, Robert." 

"Oh, thank _God_!" Rogue said with exasperation. Logan dropped the kid on the chair and stood up. A little girl began giggling and pointing at Wolverine. 

"Pointy hair! Pointy hair! Pointy hair!" she sang. The little boy started. 

"Pointy! Pointy! Pointy!" 

Wolverine cringed and popped his claws. The children gasped and shrank back in horror. Logan retracted them and continued walking. 

"Wait! Has anyone seen Bobby? Ah coulda _sworn_ Ah saw him . . . " 

Just then, Bobby appeared in a doctor's uniform. 

"Bobby - !" 

"Doctor Drake. Doctor Drake. You're wanted in the gynecology department.Doctor Drake, please report to the gynecology department," a voice said over the P.A. system. 

Bobby's eyes lit up and he snapped on some rubber gloves. 

"Bobby, you're not a doctor!" Jean cried. 

Bobby Drake looked at her sadly. "Y'know, that's the _exact same_ attitude that nearly kept me from following me dream?" He smiled again. "Now if you excuse me, I have to go to the gynecology department, like the nice, scary voice said." 

"Oh, no you don't!" Jean telekinetically stopped him and "carried" him to the doctor. 

"I'm sorry, but there are too many of you. I would like only Mr. Drake to come with me." 

"Believe me," Jean Grey said, pushing a stray wisp of red hair from her face, "you will _need_ my help." 

The doctor turned from Jean to Bobby, frantically kicking in the air. 

"Alrighty then," she said casually. "Come with me." 

Jean followed, Bobby floating helplessly behind her. 

Not five minutes later, the doctor reappeared, her hair in disarray and her clipboard falling apart. Jean was still cool and confident, despite exasperation marking her face. Bobby was standing behind her. 

Jubilee opened her mouth to say something but the doctor interrupted her. "Yes, yes. It seems that he has a very strange, severe, and acute form of A.D.D." 

"But you were only in there five minutes! Like, how do you _know_?" 

"Believe me, five minutes was _enough_." 

Bobby began to drool slightly and swayed a bit. Jean turned around and held him up telekinetically. 

"I have a question: why is de Iceman drooling?" Gambit asked. 

The doctor looked at Bobby as if to confirm to herself that he was indeed drooling. He was. She turned back around and brushed a lock of dark brown hair behind her ear. "We had to sedate him. I must have given him too much." 

Cyclops stood up. "What is it he has, exactly?" 

"Gee, now that's the funny thing: we don't know. We just now discovered it . . . in him. We can either call it severely acute A.D.D. or, my personal favorite, R.D.S." 

"What's that?" Scott asked. 

"Well, since A.D.D. is Attention Deficit Disorder, R.D.S. would be Robert Drake Syndrome." 

Cyclops frowned. "We'll think about it," he said and led Bobby away. 

"Oh! And before you go, I'd like to give you this prescription. You can pick up the drugs downstairs. It's very strong, but in the same classes as Retalin and Speed." 

"Speed," Jubilee snorted [no pun intended]. "That's the _last_ thing Bobby needs!" 

"You'd think so, but the Retalin helps him become more focused and he will be able to control himself." 

"And, to make it easier for him to take it, they're in the shape of Flintstone's characters!" The pudgy doctor opened the bottle and pulled out a purple, grape-flavored Dino. "O-oh, Dino. You're so clever," she smiled. 

"Uh, Ah hate to interrupt, but it looks like Bobby's startin' ta wake up. And he sees a squirrel. We better go." 


	2. Flintstone's Chewables and Scott's New F...

Chapter2.html Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine, except for the waiting room people and the doctor. I don't own any of the plays or books mentioned. You know the drill. 

Summary Bobby is diagnosed with a "disorder". Something in the mansion is disrupting the lives of the X-Men and no one is acting like themselves, which proves to be a serious ( I use this term lightly : ) ) problem. Rated PG. No cursing. No sex. No illegal drugs. No alcohol. It's your grandmother's sillyfic! J/K. *Watches as everyone leaves.* Ah, dang it. 

Author's Note: Please note that I don't mean to offend anyone with this. There are one or two jokes about A.D.D. and about three jokes at the end about homosexuality. Please do NOT flame me. *Watches as flames start rolling in.* Ah, dang it.   
  
  
  


**_It's All In The Balance_**   
By Blitz 

  
  
  
  


**SAME DAY:**

"Bobby you _have_ to take the pills." Jean and Bobby were sitting in the kitchen with a bottle of pills between them. She pushed them toward him. Bobby pushed them back. 

"I do' wanna!" 

"Bobby you're being immature." 

"Oh, _am_ I?" 

"Yes. Yes you are." 

"You've survived this long with me like this. Can't you guys just accept me the way I am?" he said, sounding genuinely hurt. 

Just then Scott walked in and, spotting the open bottle of pills on the table walked up to them and grabbed them. "Ooh! Flintstone's chewables!" 

"Scott, that's - !" 

But it was too late. Scott popped one in his mouth and chewed. "Cherry's my favorite. Whoa . . . " His jaw dropped and Jean saw his pupils dilate and shrink a few times. He stared straight ahead. 

"Hey! Cool! Flintstone's chewables!" Jubilee said, prying the bottle from Scott's stiff hand and popping a few in her mouth. She suffered the same effects. After staring ahead in space for a few moments, she fell over. 

Bobby grabbed the bottle and popped one in his mouth. Immediately, his hyperactivity was dulled and he was eerily calm. At least, eerily for _Bobby_. 

"What made you take them?" 

"Peer pressure," Bobby shrugged. "I'm a _very_ sensitive and impressionable young boy." 

And now, enter Hank. Hank also walked toward the medicine bottle. "Are those . . . ?" 

"Flintstone's chewables," Bobby smiled. His hyperactiviy was gone and he was more focused, but his malice that had activated the pranks before hand was still there. 

"Ooh!" Hank took one. "Pretee-ty co-lors," he cooed. 

"I'm going put the child safety cap on these and hid them," Jean said while putting them in the cabinet. 

"Are dose . . . Flintstone's chewables?" 

"Hand'em over, Shug, and no one gets hurt." 

Jean sighed and turned around. There stood Rogue and Gambit. Storm walked in behind them. 

"Sure. Why not?" she sighed. She handed them a pill. "Storm, would you like one?" 

"Do you have cherry?" 

"Ummm . . . I think. Here." Jean handed her a pill and Storm popped it in her mouth. Sighing in exasperation as she left, Jean put the pills in her pocket. 

Wolverine walked past Jean Grey and straight to a last pill that rested on the table. He ate it and shrugged as his healing factor took over and took a bottle of beer out of the refrigerator and popped a claw to open it. "Hey, Red." 

*** 

**DAY 4:******

Ororo Munroe walked into Iceman's room. He was sitting quietly on his bed and reading a book. There was a stack of books on either side of him. He closed his book, set it down in one stack, and picked up another. Ororo approached him, trying not to look unnerved by his sudden change of character. "Robert, it's time for your medication." 

Bobby closed his book and took the pill from Ororo's hand and swallowed it without water. Storm looked at him curiously. 

"What?" 

Ororo, deciding there was no nice way to say, "You can _read_?!" or "Since when did you read 20,000 Leagues Under The Sea?", shook her head and walked away. Once she was out of his room and the door was shut she leaned against the wall and exhaled. "By the goddess," she murmured to herself. 

"Hey, Storm. What's up?" 

"Oh, hello, Jubilee. I was just thinking about Bobby and how - Jubilee is that black lipstick and nail polish you're wearing?!" 

"Oh this? Yeah. It's the color of mourning. I thought today I'd, like, remember all those who died in the X-Men and that I could be next. Uh, Storm? What are you doing?" 

"Hmmm . . . temperature seems normal," Ororo said, bringing her hand away from Jubilee's forehead. "All the same, I think you should go see Hank." 

"I'm fine! Besides, I can't. I have poetry to write." 

Storm raised a skeptical eyebrow. 

"I have a lot of teen angst inside me right now. I mean, my parents died, my friends died, I'm the youngest member of the X-Men, which brings up the fact that I'm a mutant and, like, lotsa organizations want me _dead_! Death is all around us, Storm, and _I_ could be next!" Jubilee whirled around and walked quickly to her bedroom as Storm stared after her in surprise. 

Storm's eye twitched. 

Cyclops, the so-called "fearless leader" of the X-Men stormed past Ororo. He was soaking wet, in uniform, and wearing Jean's make-up. His visor was decorated as if he were going to Mardi Gras, complete with feathers and sparkle glitter. He was also wearing flippers on his hands and high heels on his feet. Ororo recognized them as her own. 

Storm opened her mouth to say something but Cyclops turned on her. 

"I _don't_ wanna _talk_ about it!!!!" 

Stepping a few feet away, he stepped out of Ororo's high heels. He picked them up with his two flippers and handed them to her. 

"Um, no. I'll pick them up later," Storm said, wrinkling her nose. 

Scott turned back around and continued walking down the hall. As he turned a corner, Jean came rushing up to Storm. 

"Ororo! Have you seen Scott?" she asked breathlessly. 

"Storm pointed down the hall. "Jean, what is - " 

"Can't talk now! Got a Cyclops to catch! Scott!! Come back!!" 

Storm sighed. "By the bright one, this is _not_ my day." Ororo headed towards her attic, hoping her collection of lush flora would give her solace. But inside, she knew it had only just begun to get worse. "Must keep my sanity," she muttered, though she knew it would be impossible to do just that. 

Ororo opened the door to her attic and gasped. 

"Remy! What are _you_ doing here?: 

Gambit sat in the middle of Storm's plants, knees hugged tight to his chest, red-on-black eyes wide with what appeared to be terror, and rocking gently forward and back. Without a word, Remy got up and walked out of the room as Ororo watched him go. Thoroughly confused, she walked to her bed, avoiding the spot where Remy LeBeau had been sitting. She stared straight ahead, trying to work things out. 

"Iceman reading -20,000 Leagues Under The Sea- - on his own free will - Jubilee becoming bleak, Scott dressed as . . . " She decided to skip Scott. "And Remy . . . " Because she didn't know _what_ he was doing, she skipped him as well. Fearing the worst, she began to turn over plant leaves and examining each stem. They were fine. "And Gambit was sitting." When she thought about what he was doing - merely sitting in her room and not touching anything - she decided she was being foolish. All the same, she thought, she resolved to keep her door locked from then on. 

Ororo. Ororo, are you there?>> 

Ororo sighed. Of course she was. It was ~her~ mind. Yes, Jean. I am here.>> 

Good. Are you in your room? > 

Yes.>> 

Good. Scott's on his way over. Would you trap him for me?>> 

Ororo sighed again, both mentally and physically. If it's all the same to you, Jean, I would rather just stay out of this whole mess.>> she said to Jean, remembering her last encounter with the . . . _flippered_ Scott Summers. But on the other hand, he _did_ have her shoes. Ororo opened her mouth and then shut it. Fine. But if you're not there in 10 minutes, I will release him. I have things to do.>> she half-lied. The "things" she had to do consisted mostly of finding Hank McCoy to treat her shoes for any diseases or bacteria and then to sterilize them thoroughly, because God only knew what Scott had done with them. 

Ororo's attic door flew open revealing a dripping wet Cyclops. This time, he was dripping with a _blue_ liquid. In his right . . . _flipper_ he held Ororo's shoes; they were covered in yellow glitter. Each toe had one feather on it, one yellow and one red. Scott slammed the door and pressed himself flat against it, obviously afraid. 

Pressing her index knuckle to her forehead and lowering her head, she shut her eyes. If she did not keep her emotions in check, a huge windstorm - or other disaster - could pick Scott up and carry him out the window. Despite her wanting to think it, she still wondered whether or not that was really a _bad_ thing. "Scott," she said, eyes still closed, head still lowered, "would you care to explain this to me?" 

"I . . . I fixed your shoes," he said helpfully. 

Her eyes shot open. "You fixed my shoes?!" She inhaled and exhaled deeply, forcing herself to calm down. They had been nice shoes. 

"I . . . I made them pretty." 

She decided then and there that Scott Summers was crazy. After all, one could only take losing a wife and a family so many times before one snapped. "Scott. What is going on?" Storm asked slowly. 

"Well, I was bored, so I started to talk to Jean. She was stressed so she yelled. One thing led to another and now, here I am." 

"As for my shoes?" 

Scott shrugged. "I can't explain what I was thinking when I did that." 

"Neither can I, Scott, neither can I." Storm got up and walked to her window and put her hands on the windowsill, thinking. Finally, she turned around. "Is that it? Is there anything else you need to tell me about?" 

Scott nodded his head, paused, then shook his head. He thought for a moment and frowned, deciding which question to answer. Finally, he decided to compromise. "No, I . . . yes . . . I have nothing more to tell you." He smiled proudly, happy for getting the right answer. 

Storm bowed her head. "Oh, goddess, give me strength!" she muttered to herself. 

The door shot open and Scott let out an optic blast at the perpetrator . . . knocking Wolverine flat on his back. 

Logan jumped back up, popping his claws. He growled and walked toward Cyclops. 

"Logan, Scott, stop it. There will be no bloodshed in my room. Which reminds me: why are you _in_ my room?" 

"Where's the Cajun? Is 'e here?" 

"No," she said. "No, Logan, he is not." 

"See ya, Ro." Logan turned around and left, claws still out. 

Ororo looked at Scott and raised an eyebrow. "Why did you attack Logan, Scott?" 

"I thought he was Jean!" 

Storm walked up to Scott and put her hands on his shoulders. "Scott? My friend? Does Wolverine _look_ like Jean Grey?" 

Scott looked down at the floor and scuffed his toe against the floor. "Noooo . . . " he decided. 

"Ro! Thank you for holding him for me." Scott was raised into the air by an unseen force. Jean appeared behind him. 

"Traitor!!!!" Cyclops shrieked as Jean carried him away. 

"Thank the goddess, they are _gone_!" Immediately remembering the past turn of events, she jumped up and ran to the door and locked it. But as she was walking back to her bed, there was a loud knock at the door. "Can I not have a moment of _peace_?!" she said, exasperatedly. "Must I keep getting interrupted from my much needed solitude? What is the point of a mansion if _they all must gather in my room_?!" 

The knock at the door came again. "C'mon, Ro! Ah know yah're in there! Don't make me bust down this door, shug!" 

"Rogue, could this wait? Perhaps and hour or so?" 

"Shug, this is a matter of _life_ and _death_!" 

"Isn't it always?" muttered Storm as she opened the door. "What is it?" 

"Have you seen Gambit?" Rogue asked breathlessly. 

"Yes, he was right in here a moment ago, but he left." 

"Was Logan here?" she cried, her green eyes growing wide. 

"Why, yes. He just left." 

"Oh, nooo . . . " 

"Would you care to explain this to me?" 

"Well, Bobby froze Wolverine's shower head and it broke off. Ah reluctantly let him use mine - and that man is _hairy_! He left a hairy clog the siza Atlanta, Georgia in there!" 

Storm raised an eyebrow and folded her arms. 

"Anyway, Remy came in and Ah had him sit on mah bed while Ah went to get mah gloves. As Ah was looking for them, Ah realized they were in Jean's room, so Ah left. When Ah came back, they were both gone! Ah later found out that while Remy was waiting, Logan came outta the shower . . . in a pink shower cap. He had heard me leave so he thought the coast was clear. He came out, saw Remy, panicked, and . . . " Rogue covered her eyes with one gloved hand. 

"Rogue?" Ororo said gently. 

"And his towel dropped!" Rogue shouted, making Ororo jump a little in surprise. They both shuddered. "Mah li'l swamp rat saw Wolverine in the buff!" She sounded very hurt. "And now, Logan's tryin' ta kill hm! Or at least rip out his eyes, which Gambit told me _he'd_ thought about doing, _too_!" 

"Well. _That_ explains a lot." Storm walked to the window again. "Rogue? I think I may have found your 'li'l swamp rat'." 

Rogue rushed to the window and looked out in time to see Wolverine chasing Gambit, Gambit looking back fearfully, and then running into the forest in a panic. 

"Gambit! No!" Rogue turned to Ororo, her eyes wide with fear. "He'll _never_ survive in there against Logan!" 

Storm opened the window and held out her arm to signify to Rogue that she may use it as an exit. 

"Thanks, shug," Rogue said, flying out. "Ah'm comin', Remy Lebeau!" 

Sighing, Storm collapsed on her bed, using her power over the wind to shut the door. She silently watered her plants and took a well deserved rest. 

Outside, Gambit was crouched behind a tree, waiting for Wolverine. If he didn't get out of that forest soon, he knew he was as good as dead. He had a better chance inside the mansion. 

All of a sudden, Gambit heard a cry of surprise from behind him. He looked up just in time to see Wolverine flying above him, claws out. And if _Gambit_ looked surprised, it was nothing compared to the look that _Wolverine_ had on his face! 

"Uh, t'anks, Rogue." 

"Yer welcome, shug!" 


	3. Goths and Chilidogs

Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine, except for the waiting room people and the doctor. I don't own any of the plays or books mentioned. You know the drill. 

Summary Bobby is diagnosed with a "disorder". Something in the mansion is disrupting the lives of the X-Men and no one is acting like themselves, which proves to be a serious ( I use this term lightly : ) ) problem. Rated PG. No cursing. No sex. No illegal drugs. No alcohol. It's your grandmother's sillyfic! J/K. *Watches as everyone leaves.* Ah, dang it. 

Author's Note: No offense to any Goths in this chapter. Jubilee is more of a Goth sterotype. No offense is intended. I'm Goth. This is all meant as a joke. So please, don't give me a long lecture about what it is. And if anything is offensive to any Goth, remember, it's just a joke.

  


**_It's All In The Balance_**  


By Blitz

  
  
  
  


**SAME DAY:**

Inside her room, Jubilee was busy dying her cheerfully yellow trenchcoat a deep black. Normally she was bright and happy, but now she was dressed solely in black with black fishnet stockings on underneath her black shorts.  
  
The curtains were drawn and the doors were closed. She was feeling particularly lonely right then.  
  
"Maybe I should, like, listen to music or something." She reached over and thumbed through her CDs. "Backstreet Boys. Britney Spears?! Oh, _please_ !" she snorted, "I'm not a _child _anymore." The thirteen - and a _ half_! - year old picked up a Dead Can Dance CD and put it in her CD player. Insane, gruff chanting, grunts, and clicks filled the room as Jubilee settled down on her bed.  
  
As she was closing her eyes, the door opened and Cyclops ran in. He was, no doubt, being followed by a rather angry Jean Grey.  
  
Jubilee's eyes shot open and she jumped up. "What are you doing here?!"  
  
"I need to borrow your room for a second."  
  
"No! And why do you have _flippers _on?!"  
  
"That is not the point. This is an order - " his voice changed from stern to timid and whiney as he hopped a little and flapped his flippers a bit - "save me from Jea-ean!"  
  
"No! You act like I don't even have a _life_! Get out of my _room_ !"  
  
"Jubilee, that's an _order_!" Scott was running out of options. "Listen to me!"  
  
"No," Jubilee growled, her voice lowering vastly in pitch. "_You_ listen, _Scotty-Boy_: this is _my _room and you invaded _my _PRIVACY!!!! March your little one-eyed butt outta my room before I go _atomic _on you!!!!"  
  
Cyclops could almost _swear _he saw flames shooting out of her eyes and considered, briefly, doing the same, but decided against it knowing that once the demon had left the teeny-bopper, she would be back to normal. He still had two options: one, get his eyes clawed out by Jean; or two, get his legs broken by a thirteen - and a half! - year-old girl.  
  
He decided to take his chances with Jean. Besides, if she _did _try to claw out his eyes he could just blast her across the room. And it was a lot less humiliating to be conquered by Jean Grey, the Pheonix, than by Jubilee and her fireworks. Scott slowly backed toward the door.  
  
Jubilee narrowed her eyes to dangerous slits and folded her arms across her chest. "Wise choice, old man."  
  
Before Scott could say anything to retaliate the "old man" comment, the door flew open, revealing an angry, menacing Pheonix, the light behind her illuminating her, her arms outstretched, floating several inches above the ground, and hair haloing her head.  
  
"Good luck," Jubilee said softly to Scott Summers sarcastically. To Jean she said, "He's right here, Jeanie!" She sounded cheerful and bouncy again, but as Jean dragged him away, he saw Jubilee standing with her arms crossed across her chest, her head held high, and a smug smile on her face.  
  
He began to wonder if he would _ever _survive that day. But then again, he decided, he was a Summers and they put up with everything from sticky gum on their shoes to marrying evil clones of their wives and having their real wives die multiple times but never really staying six-feet under.  
  
***  
  
Dr. Hank McCoy, a.k.a the Beast, approached the large wooden door that led to Bobby Drake's room. He raised a blue, furry hand and knocked on the door.  
  
"Just a minute!" the Iceman said cheerfully and Beast heard a rustling of papers. The door opened and Bobby poked his head out. "Oh! Beast! What a pleasant surprise! Do come in!" He opened the door wider and Hank entered . . . only to find piles of music sheets on the floor, on the bed, _everywhere_ .  
  
"Bobby, what do you think you're doing?"  
  
"Oh this?"  
  
"Yes. _This_."  
  
"Well, I had some spare time after reading 20,000 Leagues Under The Sea so I decided to write a symphony. Would you care to join me? I'm halfway finished."  
  
Beast's eyes widened but Iceman shook his head. "It's only going to be a half hour long. Nothing extraordinary."  
  
"I . . . see. But . . . you read 20,000 Leagues Under The Sea in one sitting?"  
  
"Well, no. Actually it was two. I had to get up to take a leak."  
  
That was a little too much information for Hank, but he shrugged it off. "Bobby, the X-Men request your presence at the dinner table this evening. Would you care to join us?"  
  
"Oh, no, I_ can't_. I have to get a good night's sleep tonight if I'm to invent cold fusion tomorrow."  
  
"Cold fusion?!"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Bobby, I applaud your efforts at inventing cold fusion, but it is impossible." Hank sighed and decided to try to a new tactic at getting Bobby to eat dinner. "Bobby, did I fail to mention that Professor Xavier is making chilidogs?" He knew Bobby couldn't resist Chilidog Night.  
  
Bobby thought for a moment and then conceded. "Alright. I'll come down for _one_ chilidog, but then I really _must _get back to my symphony." He stepped out of his room and shut and locked the door.  
  
Bobby was down the stairs faster than Hank. He stood on the banister and created an ice slide and slid down, leaving Hank to contemplate what he had just seen.  
  
"_I've_ never written a symphony. Or read _20,000 Leagues Under The Sea_ in one - excuse me, _two_- sittings. Nor have I ever tried to invent cold fusion." Hank sighed, suddenly feeling depressed. "I am indeed happy for Bobby and his newfound thirst for knowledge, but . . . " No buts, Hank decided, and walked down the stairs.  
  
Bobby "de-iced" himself and sat down next to a haunting young girl draped in black. It took him a few moments to realize that it was Jubilee, almost in her full metamorphosis. She was wearing a '30's black hat with a black veil, a black tee-shirt, a ragged kilt, back fishnet stockings, and combat boots. He could see beneath her veil that she was wearing an inch-thick layer of eyeliner and black lipstick. She was also wearing fake, long, black nails.  
  
"Jubilee?"  
  
Jubilee raised her fist and index finger and clamped it shut and opened it as she spoke in a raspy voice. "Greetings from the dead, Robert Drake. Your time will come, as will mine." She stared at him blankly, her index finger bent. Then, quickly as if an afterthought, she began moving it again and said in a rushed tone, "Red rum."  
  
" . . . Anyone wanna trade seats?"  
  
Scott raised a yellow flipper but Jean clamped a hand firmly on his shoulder. He lowered his flipper in fear.  
  
"Wolverine?"  
  
"I ain't sittin' next ta the Cajun," Wolverine stated stubbornly and sniffed indignantly.  
  
Bobby looked to his right and saw Gambit hugging his knees to his chest, eyes wide, and rocking front to back. "Gambit, you okay?"  
  
"Mm-mm," Gambit whimpered in a high voice. Rogue patted his shoulder and gave him a sympathetic glance. He looked up at her sadly.  
  
Now he had _two _reasons to leave. He looked to Storm for help. "Stormy?"  
  
She had her head leaning on her hand as her right hand drummed her fingers against the table. "What?" she snapped, looking up. A lightning bolt cracked outside as she said this.  
  
"Uh, nothing."  
  
Just then, Beast appeared. "Beastie Boy! Wanna trade seats?"  
  
"I'd rather not. I'm perfectly fine right here," he said, taking the seat between Scott and Ororo.  
  
Bobby nodded sadly.  
  
"Red rum."  
  
The Professor appeared in a chef's hat and an apron that read, "Kiss The Telepathic Chef (he knows ya wanna)." "Telepathic" and "(he knows ya wanna)" seemed to be written in red Crayola marker. It hadn't gotten the effect he had desired. In fact, everyone avoided him outright. Professor Xavier set the chilidogs on the table.  
  
"I don't eat meat anymore," Jubilee said matter-of-factly in her normal voice again. "There is far too much death and sadness in the world and I have no need to desire to be a part of it."  
  
Bobby was confused. One moment she was preaching death, the next she wanted it gone.  
  
"_Then don't eat it_," Storm said through clenched teeth.  
  
Jubilee sniffed with her nose in the air and turned away.  
  
"STOP UNDRESSING ME WITH YOUR EYES!"  
  
The entire table turned to look at Logan who was frantically covering himself up with his hands. Gambit was looking around the table, panicking. Finally, he broke down bawling. "I didn't want to see you," he cried, covering his eyes to wipe away the tears. "My eyes. MY EYES!!!!" Gambit pulled a pencil out of his coat pocket, then put it back. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes from another pocket, then put those, too, back. He reached his hand into several pockets, pulling out a screw driver, a lollipop, a calculator, a CD player, a grape-juice box, a coke can, another juice-box (this time empty and crushed), and then, from out of nowhere, came his bo staff. He returned all of them to their rightful pockets.  
  
"He's like a friggin' kangaroo!" Bobby yelled.  
  
"Red rum," Jubilee said.  
  
"Oh, shut-up," Jean answered as Remy pulled out a bottle of eye-drops.  
  
"Must clean eyes, must clean eyes!" he yelled, as he proceded to drip them in.  
  
Jubilee suddenly realized what Remy was saying. She stared at him, then at Wolverine, trying to figure out what to do. Bobby could almost _sense _ the wave of jealousy wash over Jubilee. "You . . . saw Wolvie naked?" she asked timidly.  
  
"Aah! Wolvie! Naked! Same . . . sentence! Must clean eyes. Must clean eyes! MUST CLEAN EYES!!!!" More eye-drops.  
  
Jubilee scowled then stood up, causing her dishes to clatter. Before she ran up to her room, she turned to Remy and said with a menacing glare, "Oh, yeah and - Red rum!"  
  
Remy stopped putting eye-drops in for a moment and stared after her. Finally he said, "Was dat some sort of t'reat?"  
  
"Read The Shining, Shug," Rogue said, patting him on the shoulder. "Read The Shining."  
  
Bobby looked over at Beast who had his head leaning on one paw and was pushing a piece of chilidog around on the plate with his fork. Storm sighed in exasperation and ran her hands through her pearly white hair. Professor Xavier looked down at his apron and smiled. He winked at Jean.  
  
"Ugh," Jean said in disgust. She pushed herself away from the table and stormed up the stairs.  
  
Scott turned to the Professor and puckered up and closed his eyes. The Professor shook his head.  
  
"Scott, no."  
  
Scott lowered his head and pouted, letting his flippers fall on his lap.  
  
Beast catapulted a piece of chilidog at the side of Cyclops head with his fork. Scott reached up and touched the place where the chilidog had hit.  
  
"Hey!"  
  
Bobby reached into his pocket and took a pill. He swallowed it and shut his eyes as it worked its magic. When he opened his eyes he excused himself from the table and retreated to his room.  



	4. Scott's Explanation

Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine, except for the waiting room people and the doctor. I don't own any of the plays or books mentioned. You know the drill. 

Summary: Bobby is diagnosed with a "disorder". Something in the mansion is disrupting the lives of the X-Men and no one is acting like themselves, which proves to be a serious ( I use this term lightly : ) ) problem. Rated PG. No cursing. No sex. No illegal drugs. No alcohol. It's your grandmother's sillyfic! J/K. *Watches as everyone leaves.* Ah, dang it. 

Author's Note: Please note that I don't mean to offend anyone with this. There are one or two jokes about A.D.D. and about three jokes at the end about homosexuality. Please do NOT flame me. *Watches as flames start rolling in.* Ah, dang it. 

And ~ means flashback or end flashback.   
  


** It's All In The Balance**   
By Blitz   
  
  


**SAME DAY:**

Lying on his music sheets on his bed with his hands folded behind his head, he thought over what had happened just a little while ago. He never knew he would have an interest in writing music. Beast had tried to take him to numerous operas, ballets, and musicals. He had fallen asleep and snored loudly during The Nutcracker. He had made it snow in Carmen. And he had shot ice darts at Macavity the Mystery Cat in Cats. He smiled, remembering the yelps, the hisses, and meows as the dancers tried not to yell out in pain. 

"How foolish I was then," he said as he stood up and paced his room. "I wonder what was up with Hank today? He seemed a little . . . off. Come to think of it . . . they _all_ did. Gambit and Wolverine . . . well I'm not going to get into _their_ little relationship." He shrugged. "I'm not surprised. It was bound to happen sooner or later, but Storm was actually looking like she could _kill_ the Professor. Rogue was normal but she was tied into Wolverine and Gambit's 'love life' That's gotta be one of _the most _twisted love triangles I've _ever_ seen. It's even up there with _Madeline Pryor_. 

"And then there was Jubilee . . . I _think_ it was Jubilee. It looked more like the angel of all that is bloodsucking and evil to _me_," Bobby Drake said to himself. "I wonder what's gotten into them all lately. Well, I _know_ what's gotten into Jubilee: the devil himself." 

Bobby thought for a while, trying to sort out his thoughts. He was interrupted by a knock on the door. "It's open. You can come in." 

The person on the outside fumbled with the doorknob and Bobby saw it shake and rattle. He stared as they started to bang on the door as if trying to push it open. 

BANG! BANG! BANG! 

Bobby sighed. "Hold on." The banging stopped and Bobby opened the door. Scott Summers stared back at him, his flippers hanging limply at his side and feathers from his Mardi Gras ruby-quartz glasses bent and falling off. He was still wearing Jean's make-up, but this time, over his uniform, he was wearing a ball gown. It was a nice princess-y, light blue one with a shawl. He was dripping with what looked like light blue toilet bowl cleaner. 

Bobby sighed again. "I don't have time for this, Scott," he said and shut the door. 

Scott Summers put his foot in the door. But he had given the glitter high heels back to Storm so his feet were defenseless. 

Bobby ignored the foot and slammed the door again, looking down at it. 

The door didn't close. 

So he slammed it again. 

And again. 

"Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Quit it!" 

Bobby stopped. "Move." 

"Let me in." 

"No." 

"You cannot hide from my, Scott! I _will_ find you!" a voice boomed from down the hall. 

Bobby froze (figuratively speaking, of course) and opened the door wider. "Come in." He made a trail for Scott in the piles of music papers. 

However, once Cyclops was in, he shook himself like a wet dog, sprinkling blue water over everything. 

"I _hate_ you." 

Cyclops looked over at him apologetically. 

"Here. Go . . . stand in the shower or something and let the water run into the drain. 

Scott stood in the shower and Bobby sat on his bed. "Aren't you . . . going to come in here and talk to me?" 

"Oh, no! _Heeeck_ no! Are you _crazy_? Too many ways to blackmail me. No. We'll just talk _riiiight_ here, thank you very much!" 

Scott nodded. 

"Are you going to start telling me what's going on now?" 

Scott nodded, but didn't say anything. 

Bobby looked at him. 

Scott sighed. "Okay. Today I was bored and Jean had a headache. The conversation went something lie this . . . " And with that, Scott related the entire episode between the "happy" couple . . . 

*** 

9 hours ago; 10:00 a.m.; Scott is sill in uniform after a training session in the Danger Room. 

~"Jean? Whatcha doin'?" Scott asked, chin resting on top of the armrest of the plush chair. 

"_Nothing_, Scott." Her eyes were closed and her brow was furrowed. Her head was resting on her hand. 

"Whatcha thinkin' 'bout?" he asked innocently. 

Jean wanted to kill him. "I have a _headache_ and I _don't_ want to _talk_ to you right now." 

"Oh," Scott said sarcastically, "she's too _busy_ to talk to _me_." 

"Stop talking to the voices in your head, darling." 

"That's _your_ job. How's the Dark Pheonix doing in there? Hello-o?" He tapped her forehead.~ 

*** 

You _didn't_!" 

"I did," Scott said sadly. 

"You deserve what you get then." 

"It gets worse." 

Bobby slapped his hand to his head as Scott continued his story. 

*** 

Jean grabbed his wrist. "How dare you!" She lifted him up into the air and flung him against the wall next to her make-up. He fell to the ground. 

"Oh, I'm Jean Grey!" he mocked and grabbed her lipstick and began sloppily putting it on. "I'm Jean Grey! I'm Little Miss Perfect!" He began with the eyeshadow. 

"Oh, Scott likes wearing make-up, _does he_? Surprise, surprise." She telekinetically threw powder puff after powder puff at him. 

Scott started with the mascara. "I'm Jean Grey and I wear make-up, but I can't spend _oooonnnneeee_ minute talking to the love of my life!" 

"Right now, a _tarantula_ is more 'the love of my life' than you are!" 

"I'm Jean Grey and I'm in love with a tarantula!" Scott froze. Jean was coming for him. "Uh-oh." Scott got up and backed away into the bathroom. 

Jean pushed him into the shower and turned it on. Then she flushed the toilet. 

Repeatedly. 

"Aaaarrrrgggghhhh!!!!" 

*** 

"It was more of a little girl scream, wasn't it?" 

"Oh yeah," Scott nodded. "Now let me finish . . . " 

*** 

~Scott climbed out of the bathtub on his hands and knees, coughing and spluttering. 

"Oh, you like the water, _do you_?!" Jean growled. She telekinetically brought in two yellow scuba-diving flippers. Then, in came floating the glue. 

"Jean. No. You wouldn't."~ 

***   
"She would," Scott said sadly, holding up his yellow flippers as proof. 

Bobby cringed. 

*** 

~Holding Scott's body still, yet allowing his head to toss and turn agony, she used her powers to apply the glue and then put on the flippers. When she let go of him, she was smiling evilly. "And to match your _awesome_ make-up, I suggest _these_!" She growled the last word. 

Cyclops gulped as Jean went inside his mind and knocked him out. 

When he awoke, he felt something light and feathery brushing his forehead. He felt his visor. They were feathers. She had also then the shoes she had borrowed from Ororo and placed them on Scott's feet. "Good _God_," He got up and ran from the room, stumbling and falling a few times due to the high heels. He felt a sudden wave of respect for all women, specifically the ones who ran in high heels, and _most_ specifically Ororo, who had to wear them. 

Once outside the room, he considered himself safe and slowed his speed to a trot like a pony.~ 

*** 

"And about the blue toilet water?" 

"She got mad and dumped a bucketful on me," Scott explained. 

"And Ororo informs me that you ruined her shoes?" 

Scott nodded. 

"Why would Jean make you do that? She loves Ororo like a sister!" 

Scott was silent for a while and realization set in on Bobby. "You - " he started with wide eyes. 

Scott nodded, his head down sadly. "I did that. 

"What were you _thinking_?! 'Today's a good day to _die_?!'" 

"I can't honestly say," Scott said slowly, but then added, "but I know I had good intentions!" 

Bobby raised his eyebrows worriedly and then shook his head. "You deserve what you get," he decided finally. "I should turn you into Jean right now - " 

"No!" Cyclops yelled. 

" - but I won't because we have known each other since the beginning of the X-Men. We have a bond like brothers." 

Cyclops exhaled happily. 

"But then again, Jean was there, too. And we have a bond like sisters." 

Cyclops squinted and tilted his head to the side and looked at him out of the corner of his eyes. 

"Brother and sister! BROTHER AND SISTER!" 

Scott still wasn't convinced. 

Bobby lowered his head and closed his eyes, exhaled, and ran his fingers through his hair. "Jean!" he called, head still down and eyes still closed. "He's in here!" 

"NO HE'S NOT!" 

The door flew open and Jean flew in. She lifted Scott up into the air by his underarms and flew away. 

Bobby fell back on his bed, wondering what had gotten into Scott and Jean. Normally, they would have talked things out. And normally the Professor would have stopped them from attacking each other. 

And normally _he_ would be the one putting make-up on Scott. 

Nothing was right with the world.   



End file.
